Insufferable
by smileysgoboing
Summary: Oneshot. When Brigan first met Fire, he really was insufferable. But perhaps with good intentions. Brigan POV


Brigan paced in the darkness, frustration fuelling his steps for a few minutes ago, he had sent Nash to his rooms, even though he knew that his brother would have gone off in search of the monster, idiot that he was. That brief moment in the courtyard had been enough to drive Nash to madness, for Nash was too weak and the monster too strong, and Brigan loathed her for that.

Hidden by the shadows cast by flickering torchlight, Brigan narrowed his eyes at the monster as she hurried down the corridor. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, inhumanly brilliant, and her face was tinted red; whether by the light or an encounter with Nash, he didn't know. The thought of Nash and the monster sent another surge of fury through him, and he stepped forwards, glowering.

It was almost natural to keep his mental defences up, but he made a conscious effort to tighten them further, for he refused to be like his brother and fall prey to the monster's power. It took little effort, however, for him to shove her against the wall, as small as she was, and pin her wrists above her head.

"Show the slightest interest in befriending the king and I will kill you." The words, made harsh by his anger and hatred, came out in a snarl.

At the first touch of her mind against his, he pushed her against the wall harder. _How like your brother you are_, she snapped_, only less romantic._

So he had been right; Nash had sought her, although to what extent, he didn't know. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed her wrists and refused to entertain the possibility of his brother sharing a bed with the monster. "Lying monster-eater," he hissed.

She sucked in a breath of air, almost as if she was offended by his words. _You're a bit of a disappointment, aren't you?_ she taunted. _People talk about you as if you're something special, but there's nothing special about a man who pushes a defenceless woman around and calls her _names, she sneered. _It's plain ordinary_.

"I'm to believe you're defenceless?" he growled.

The monster gave him a hard stare. _I am against you._

"But not against this kingdom," Brigan said harshly, because this was what he feared – another Cansrel, another monster plucking the power from Nash's hands, except it wouldn't be them taking, it would be Nash offering, and he knew full well what monsters were capable of.

_I don't stand in opposition to this kingdom_, she said. And then, as a cruel afterthought: _At least, no more so than you, Brigandell._

The use of his royal name stunned him for a few moments, for only his father and his mother called him that, and he was fighting so hard to fix his father's problems. And the thought of his mother made him falter, for what would she think of this – he, threatening a girl no older than 16 or 17. Monster or no, he was ashamed.

She refused to look at him as he backed away, turning her back as she clutched her arm. Brigan blinked, and blinked again, for the brunt of his actions was there in her trembling and in the darkening of the shoulder of her dress.

"I can see that you studied the example of your father before deciding the man you wanted to become," she said viciously, the words coming fast and harsh. "The Dells are in fine hands, aren't they? You and your brother both – you can go the raptors," she spat, echoing his words from earlier.

"Your father was the ruin of my father _and _of the Dells!" Her anger made him defensive, bringing back the fury from before and more. "My only regret is that your father didn't die on my sword. I despise him for killing himself and denying me the pleasure. I envy the monster that ripped out his throat."

Even as he spoke, he was beginning to regret, for as she turned to face him, he was struck by her similarities to Cansrel, most of which came from her beauty, ethereal and entirely monstrous even with her hair covered. She resembled her father as much as he didn't resemble his. It suddenly came to Brigan that both their fathers had left behind a world of ruin, with no one to blame but their children.

They were more alike than he had realised, and it was this thought that prompted him to speak again. "I didn't know you were wounded," he said quietly, lamely, because he truly hadn't meant to injure her.

But it seemed as though they had switched places, for now he was silent and she was burning with hatred and rage. She was shaking still, this time with a desperate fury to hurt _him_, and it showed in her struggle to get the words out. "You're inhuman," she said finally. "You do nothing but hurt people."

And then, her green eyes sharp with accusations: "You're the monster, not I."

As she whirled and strode away, Brigan could do nothing but watch almost helplessly, the sword at his hip a thousand times heavier.


End file.
